The room is bathed in warm light, the warm glow of the sun spilling through large windows. The bed is simple, crisp white sheets, yet somehow it feels intimate, personal. There’s nobody else around — usually your whole team would be fluttering around you but you’d dismissed them all because this isn’t just another campaign.

No, this is a personal, exclusive shoot with Satoru Gojo — the world-renowned model who left his family’s legacy behind for a life of modelling. You’ve worked with countless models but none like him.

Satoru moves fluidly, settling deeper into the white sheets, half-naked, chest bare and the soft outline of his body illuminated by the warm light that spills across the room. His tousled white hair is spread across the pillow, some simple white sweatpants low on his hips.

You’ve been shooting for a while now, but there’s something missing, something not quite right. Satoru’s natural charisma is undeniable, but his expression is just a little too relaxed, too playful. It’s not personal enough for the magazine cover. It’s a piece on his personal life — on him, Satoru the man, not Satoru the model.

"We need to shift the vibe a bit," you mutter, lowering the camera and frowning slightly.

"What’s wrong? You don’t like my vibe?” Satoru murmurs, lips twitching as if he’s about to grin.

You tilt your head. It’s always the same with him — playful, challenging, but you know he’s deeper than that. "I want you to drop the mask a little, Satoru. Stop looking like you’re having fun. Give me something raw. Something... real.”

He’s quiet for a beat, like he’s weighing your words. Then, his expression shifts. The playfulness fades, his eyes going half lidded as he stares at you through the lens of the camera. His mouth, which had been so carefree before, tenses slightly. It’s subtle, but it’s there — the depth you asked for is finally creeping in.

"Like this?" Satoru murmurs, voice quieter, less teasing, and there’s a cool intensity in his icy blue eyes as he lays in the sheets.